


Sealed With a Kiss

by scandalsavage



Series: SladeRobin Week 2018 [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Canon-Typical Violence, Demon Deals, Human trafficking mentioned, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, child enslavement mentioned, child murder mentioned, demons talking about doing demonic things, nothing graphic though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-25
Updated: 2018-10-25
Packaged: 2019-08-07 11:48:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16407932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scandalsavage/pseuds/scandalsavage
Summary: Dick is everything that's good in the world. Slade won't lose him. His warped soul is a small price to pay.





	Sealed With a Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> Demon deals sealed with kisses shamelessly stolen from Supernatural.
> 
> There is a little warning I put in the end note but it ruins what passes for a twist in this fic. There's an implication that turns out to be untrue but is left open ended for a bit just to make one of the characters uncomfortable. If that still bothers you check out the end note for more info.

“You’re probably gonna want to decide soon,” the demon says lazily, leaning casually against Slade’s car, examining its nails, “that guy doesn’t look like he’s gonna last another minute.”

Slade scowls at him. “Shut up. It’s not exactly an everyday purchase.”

“Nah, definitely a once in a lifetime opportunity,” the demon grins. It shifts its weight to its right leg and crosses the left at the ankle, shined leather toe resting on gravel.

Slade growls at it and it raises its hands, palms out in appeasement, “I mean you went to all the trouble to call me up here, figured you’d at least have been sure. But whatever, man, take your time.”

“Thought you might be more amenable to a different price.”

The demon narrows its eyes in skepticism and gives an amused smirk, “No you didn’t.”

“I’ve worked for your kind before,” Slade argues, “My reputation must be worth something.”

“Oh, it is,” the demon says, gaze suddenly sharper, “You just got unlucky, I guess. I’m not one of the demons who needs your services.”

Slade believes that. This demon is upper echelon, likely the head of his own branch of ‘soul recruitment.’ He has a faint black-tinged red aura surrounding him that tells Slade he doesn’t need to possess a body to be here.

That should make Slade more nervous than it does. But he’s distracted by the fading, lifeless, body in his arms.

He doesn’t know what he did to deserve Dick. Actually, he does… nothing. He’s never done anything to deserve Dick. Slade’s a mercenary; an assassin who works for the worst people in the world, and the worst creatures below it. He’s killed good people for devils and monsters. There was only once, 20 years ago, where he drew a line. He’s done horrible, evil things, and Dick is the embodiment of beauty and grace and goodness.

“Dude, I really don’t mean to rush you, but I also feel the need to point out that you’re not gonna have a decision to make for very much longer… like seconds…” the demon says, tone cold and indifferent, as it picks a piece of non-existent fluff off it’s expensive looking, blood-red, button down.

“Do it,” Slade barks at the creature. His soul is corrupted already, rotted straight through, it’s going to Hell when he dies anyway, what difference does it make if it’s owned by this demon or thrown in gen pop. At least this way Dick will live longer, grace the world with his presence for longer, be with Slade for what remains of Slade’s life. This may be the only even remotely selfless thing he’s ever done.

It’s like the demon reads his mind. And maybe it does.

“So, just to be clear, usually these things take effect after you die… like, naturally,” the demon looks him in the eye, all business, “But, we both know you’re destined for the Pit anyway. I could wait for you to show up there naturally, but patience has never been one of my virtues and that’s the only reason I’m bothering to make a deal with you at all,” it grins and chuckles like it said something clever, “So these terms are a little different. Your boy’s life for your soul… in five years.”

Slade glares at it, “You couldn’t have mentioned that sooner?”

The demon shrugs and doesn’t take his eyes off Slade’s one good one.

Dick makes a choked sound and Slade can’t see his chest moving, can’t hear him breathing.

“Fine!” Slade snaps. “Do it now!”

“I mean, you know the drill,” the demon purrs as it saunters over to him, teal eyes glowing in the darkness of the crossroads, wicked grin turning lecherous.

Slade hates this part. The demons always take too much pleasure in what should be a business transaction.

When Slade hesitates, the demon rolls his eyes, “You’re really running out of time, big guy. And you know _you’ve_ gotta kiss _me_.” It looks up at him through full lashes and Slade also hates how pretty most of the upper demons are.

Slade grabs it by its stupid silk shirt and presses their lips together roughly. He feels the demon’s tongue slide into his mouth and he tries to jerk away only to be caught by his wrist in a supernaturally strong grip that grinds his bones together. This is really unnecessary.

The demon lets him go, steps back, gives an evil grin like it’s won something, and snaps its fingers.

Below him Dick gasps and slides out of his arms, to his knees, coughing. The blood that had been dripping from his ears, eyes, and mouth receding back into his body.

Slade drops to his side, puts one hand on Dick’s knee and the other rubbing soothing patterns into Dick’s back.

When he realizes the demon hasn’t left yet he scowls up at it, “You can go now, asshole.”

“Oh, I don’t think so,” it says, same shit-eating grin plastered on its face, “I’d hate to miss this next part.”

“What’re you—”

“Fuck!” Dick pants, “I thought he was actually gonna let me die there for a moment.”

Slade’s face twists in confusion as Dick gets up on shaky legs without looking at him.

“I wasn’t worried,” the demon responds with an unconcerned shrug, “You were a perfect little whore for him. No way was he going let you go so callously.”

Slade swallows hard as he stands. What the hell is going on?

“Easy for you to say from your side of things. You certainly waited until the last goddamned second. Were _you_ going to let me die?” Dick growls at the demon.

The demon’s grin widens and his eyes twinkle cruelly, “Hadn’t decided yet.”

Slade’s feels anger boiling in his gut. They know each other?

“Father would have killed you,” Dick snarls.

“No, he wouldn’t have,” the demon replies unconcerned, “Then he’d be down three sons, left with just Tim, and out all the kids who like to get their hands dirty.”

“You—you two are brothers?” Slade asks, surprised enough to speak through the rage at the increasingly obvious fact that he’d been played. “But I tested you…”

They just look at him like he’s an ant, ignore his question, and look back to each other.

“Speaking of,” Dick says, “Give it back.”

The demon reaches into his pocket and pulls out a little vial full of a… smoke? Liquid? Of the same black-tinged red color of the aura around the demon.

“I don’t know, Dickie,” he drawls, and looks the other man up and down in a decidedly un-brotherly way that makes Slade cringe, “I kinda like you all squishy and vulnerable.”

Dick’s gaze turns heated despite the exasperated sigh that passes his lips and Slade can’t help but wonder if demon genetics work differently that humans… do demons even have genes?

He decides he doesn’t want to know.

“Jason,” Dick says warningly.

“Richard,” the demon, Jason, says mockingly. They stare at each other for a long moment before, “I’ll make you deal,” Jason says slyly and Dick’s mouth twitches up in amusement, “I’ll give it back in exchange for…” he looks around, “…the wallet in your back pocket.”

“Deal,” Dick says, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a soft brown leather trifold that Slade had given Dick two years ago. Slade feels like ripping them both apart with his bare hands.

He knows that’s a bad idea. Still, he was never dumb enough to summon a demon without some insurance. He slowly moves his hand behind his back, wrapping his fingers around the handgun in his waistband, and waits for his opening.

Dick slithers up to Jason, their eyes locked on each other, as Jason speaks, “Now, I know you’re just a fragile human right now and this is your first demon deal so let me tell you how this goes down.”

Slade almost feels ill watching this performance. Dick’s close enough to walk his fingers up Jason’s chest, bats his eyes and looks up from beneath long lashes and hums, “You’re right. You’re my first. I’m a demon deal virgin. Be gentle with me?”

The glowing teal eyes look like they get brighter. “Not a fucking chance in Hell,” the demon growls, grabbing Dick by the hair and dragging their bodies together, “ _You’ve_ gotta kiss _me_ , baby, free will and all that.”

Dick smiles brilliantly and rises up on his toes, Jason doesn’t move to meet him, makes the smaller man wrap a hand around his neck and tug him down, then their tongues are in each other’s throats.

Slade pulls the gun free from his waistband. As soon as they separate, he’s killing Jason. Then he’s gonna have a nice long talk with still-human Dick before he rips his limbs from his pretty body.

When they pry their lips away from each other Jason smiles, “Is that a blush? Damn, that’s fuckin hot. You sure you don’t wanna play a little before you take this?” he wiggles the vial between his fingers.

“I’ve spent three years like this. So no, I don’t want to wait a moment longer,” Dick says firmly, eyes hard. Jason frowns, whether at the idea of being without his demonic nature for so long or with disappointment that Dick turned him down, Slade doesn’t care. He just wants Dick to step away.

Dick holds the wallet up between them, Jason holds up the vial, then with his other hand, he snaps his fingers. The items switch places so that Dick holds the vial and Jason holds the wallet.

Jason grins and tosses the wallet into the field behind him. Dick smirks, leans into the larger man, kisses him again, a little more chaste, and _finally_ steps away.

Slade doesn’t hesitate; not for a fraction of a second, and his aim has always been perfect. The bullet hits Jason directly between the eyes.

It’s a killing shot. Even the highest ranking demons of the Pit can’t withstand these bullets.  The casings are made from the halos of angels, filled with bone dust of saints, baptized in holy water, and blessed by eunuch monks. They are literally invaluable, as in, worth so much as to be incomprehensible. He has five of these bullets and as far as he knows, they’re the only ones in existence. There had been six but he’d had to use it once before when a demon boss tried to kill him after a job.

He knows they work.

So why doesn’t Jason so much as flinch?

It’s only a heartbeat between Jason’s amused sneer and Slade aiming the gun at Dick, who’s still human. He can at least take one of them out. But his shot goes wide as he’s jerked violently into the air and slammed back into the gravel with enough force to break bones. The gun goes skittering away from him. He immediately coughs blood.

“You wanna go to your grave a little early, old man?” Jason asks casually.

Slade’s vision blurs a little but he can still make out Dick opening the vial and suddenly he’s got the same black-red aura as Jason and his baby blues are glowing unnaturally.

“Thank the Devil,” he moans.

“You can when we get back. You know how fucking happy he’s going to be.”

They both look at Slade. Dick hooks a finger at him and he’s jerked up onto his knees. Jason circles round behind him and grabs hold of his shaggy white hair, pulling his head back violently so that he’s staring at Dick, now kneeling in front of him.

Slade spits blood in his face but he doesn’t even blink. Just smiles and licks up what splattered on his lips.

“You’re probably pretty confused right now,” Dick says, so gently it immediately puts Slade even more on edge.

“Fuck you,” Slade says and struggles briefly against the hand in his hair, trying to look back, “That should have killed you. What the fuck are you?”

Dick stands and Jason tugs Slade’s head further back so he can keep his eye on the man he’d actually thought he’d maybe loved. Then the pressure is gone but he can’t move, an invisible force holding him in place. Jason comes back into his field of vision.

“If you’d stop being so rude and spitting at people,” Dick says with a faux pout, “we were just about to tell you.”

Slade grinds his teeth together because that’s pretty much all he can do.

“About 20 years ago you made a different deal,” Dick says, voice light and airy.

Slade’s blood turns to ice. Dick smiles, knowingly.

“You took a job from, what you thought at the time was a demon named Bruce,” Dick continues.

“Considering what happened, we expect you know now Bruce is no demon,” Jason elaborates.

No, Bruce was no demon. At the time, Slade had been easily fooled by the unimpressive name and the easy, business-like demeanor of the seemingly unexceptional demon and he’d never even had any indication that he should question that. The job had been simple enough, protect a couple shipping containers until the cargo was delivered to it’s final destination; a demon with a vast network of intricate soul traps catering to every vice in frighteningly creative and efficient ways, deceptively harmless in appearance, enticing humans to sell their immortal souls for one more hit of whatever was their poison.

His ex-wife had died the day before he left and he’d had to take his daughter with him—

He shudders. He’s under no illusion that he’d been even a mediocre father. He’d told his daughter to stay in the car with the doors locked. That would keep the humans out and he’d warded it so the supernatural couldn’t get in… he wasn’t very familiar with kids; didn’t think she’d get out of the car on her own.

“Can’t imagine what his problem is,” Slade says, filling his voice with as much fake bravado as he can muster, “I kept my end of the deal.”

Their smiles are cold and cruel. It’s true. When the containers were opened and the kids inside were herded out into windowless vehicles, he’d felt sick but he saw them to the demon’s compound, from the safety of his own vehicle, his daughter hidden under a tarp in the backseat. The whole drive he’d battled with himself about whether or not he should send the money back to the demon who’d hired him and let the kids go. He may have done it too, if Rose hadn’t been there. He was just gonna do the job and leave, no muss no fuss.

But then she’d gotten out of the car and the demon’s minions had brought her in to the main hall with the others. The demon had tried to say that Rose was his. Slade had argued. Aggressively.

It had been over in a moment. It had been immediately clear that this wasn’t an ordinary demon. He’d watched helplessly, with the one eye left to him, as the creature slaughtered Rose and licked her blood off his fingers. Slade, wishing he’d been just a little quicker about it, had had to use his trump card.

A benefit of being a mercenary is playing both sides and he’d once done a job for an archangel in return for a favor. All he had to do was pray for the angel’s help. And that’s what he did, trapped in the demon’s power, much like he is now, he’d prayed to the angel.

Slade had never seen a fight like it before in his life. When the dust had settled the angel had won but it was actually dying. Slade didn’t know what could take on an archangel like that so he’d asked. And the angel had told him.

“Damian was the Crown Prince of Hell,” Dick hums.

“The Devil’s own son,” Jason clarifies needlessly, “And not the way we are; the fires of Hell incarnate, given life by his will.”

“And not the way our other brother is; the frozen depths of the Maddening Void made flesh, by his will,” Dick adds.

“No, Damian was the End of Days, the Deceiver, the Son of the Devil, born from the corruption of a pure soul and the tainting of innocence.”

“And you’re the human who facilitated his death,” Dick finishes, “Our father is very excited to meet you.”

Slade finally finds his voice and even though it comes out cracked and broken he’s still proud he’s able to speak at all when faced with two angry Princes of Hell staring down at him like he’s their next meal, “That asshole was a monster—”

“All the creatures of Hell you’ve ever worked for are monsters,” Jason scoffs with a dismissive wave of his hand and the rolling of his eyes.

“He killed my daughter right in front of me after trying to convince me I should leave her with the other children; with him. You’re fucking right I killed the little prick,” Slade growls angrily.

“And I’ve killed _millions_ of men’s daughters,” Jason rumbles, low and threateningly, “And the man you’ve been sleeping next to for the last few years…” Jason pauses and they both look at Dick who gives a glorious, bright smile and a little wave, “He’s killed just as many,” Jason leans in, lips brushing Slade’s ear, before whispering, “And that’s the nicest thing we’ve done to men’s daughters. Sounds like your girl was lucky.”

Slade tries to thrash even though he knows there’s no way out of the mystical hold. Both boys laugh, painfully genuine sounds. They’re enjoying  his torment.

“He can hardly blame me for doing the same thing he’s doing now.”

“He doesn’t,” Dick says pleasantly and shrugs. “He can always make another Son. But he also can’t allow the _human_ who killed a Son to go unpunished. It just wouldn’t send the right message.”

Slade focuses on Dick. His brain is having trouble reconciling the creature of darkness before him with the cheerful man who’s been at his side for years.

“Why’d he wait so long?”

“Well for starters, Jason and I are tens of thousands of years old. Bruce is much, much older. 20 years is a drop of H2O in the cosmos.”

“But mostly, it’s because we were watching you,” Jason, back at Dick’s side, adds while carding his fingers through Dick’s hair, “Learning everything there is to know about you. What you like, what you hate, what you want, what you need; every facet of what makes you, you.”

“Then we tailored a plan that would deliver your soul to our father. Turns out you’re simpler than you think you are,” Dick finishes, leaning in to Jason’s caresses.

But there’s the thing Slade doesn’t fully understand.

“My soul was going to Hell anyway. Why go to the trouble? Aren’t all the souls in Hell ultimately the Devil’s?”

“Ooh, good question, Slade!” Dick perks up like Slade’s a dog who just did a trick, “There are universal rules that govern the supernatural worlds. Unowned souls destined for Hell go to the Pit where they’re tortured and tormented until they’re so scarred and traumatized they become lower demons. They can progress up the ranks and eventually become pretty powerful agents of Hell.”

“Bartered souls are enslaved to the whims of their demonic owners,” Jason grins wickedly, “They can be allowed to become caged demons, minions to do their master’s bidding, or kept as what amounts to a human slave.”

“And if it looks like you’re getting too battered and in danger of turning into a demon, your master only has to think about healing you just enough to keep playing.”

Slade swallows hard. He doesn’t ever remember being terrified before. Even with all the powerful creatures he’s worked with and fought over the years, he’s never really been scared. Even with Damian it was more rage than fear.

But he’s afraid now. Anyone with half a brain would be… eternity is endless… that’s what he’s looking at, actual infinite agony.

“We have to get home now,” Dick says brightly, “Have to report our success to Bruce. He’ll be so delighted that you’ll be joining us soon. I can’t believe you actually let Jay talk you down to five years,” he smiles up at Jason and tucks a stray strand of hair back behind Jason’s ear.

“Yeah, and after that we’ve got three years to make up for,” Jason says suggestively as Dick jumps and turns into him. Slade sees Jason’s hand on Dick’s ass and knows he’s just squeezed it.

Slade should have known that ass was too good to be true.

“Hope you don’t spend all of your time looking for a way out, Slade,” Dick says, sounding sincere, “I know you won’t take my word for it but there’s no way to break this contract. You really should spend as much time soaking up as much pleasure as you can.”

“Because you won’t find any relief in the afterlife,” Jason finishes nastily.

And then they disappear and Slade feels the hold vanish.

When he can move again, when he’s stopped shaking and regained some semblance of control, he picks up his gun and looks at it.

What’s five years to an eternity?

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, this is the spoilery part...
> 
> When Slade asks about them being brothers, Jason and Dick let him think what he wants. The boys are not related and they say as much later in the story. They are aspects of Hell personified, beings of fire and brimstone. And while they both call the devil their father it’s because his power brought them into existence, fully formed. They didn’t ‘grow up together’ because they were never children. They’re happy to let Slade think in human terms because it makes him even more uncomfortable and they’re demons so they like that.


End file.
